


coffee and pancakes

by cosmofluous



Series: the interludes [4]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: AU, Absolute fluff, Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Multi, One-Shot, the most impossible love chain/polygon that ever existed, where nothing hurts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 17:38:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6433948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmofluous/pseuds/cosmofluous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Happy birthday, Haise.'</p><p>Or: a Happy Dream™.</p>
            </blockquote>





	coffee and pancakes

**Author's Note:**

> i saw [this](http://floppyamon.tumblr.com/post/142106743710/kenkamishiro-littlemissymonster-someone-bought) and got all fluffy inside and this cream puff happened okay is it possible to choke on ur own fluff

The light wakes him.

It filters in through the cracks in the blinds, brushing his cheeks with hesitant fingertips. The warmth of sleep is gentle, fading. The aroma of something golden wafts into the bedroom. He can hear the homely sounds of a crackling fry pan, dishes clinking on the counter, the scrape of a spatula.

He slides from the warm nest of the bed. The floor is pleasantly cool under his bare feet. He follows the scent and light into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes sleepily. ‘Good morning,’ he says, through an escaped yawn.

Arima-san is standing at the stove and wearing his apron, the frilly pink one that Saiko bought him, partly as a joke. He is dressed in sweatpants and a shirt, and he looks a little incongruous from his usually immaculate, suited self. His smile is the same though. Arima-san always smiles like he’s a little surprised, like being happy is an unexpected gift and he doesn’t know if he should open it in front of the giver. The counter is scattered with maple syrup, fresh cream, bowls of berries. 

'Good morning, Haise,’ he returns, and his smile turns indulgent at the corners. He flips the pancake. ‘Happy birthday.’

Haise feels a blush coming on. Is it a crime to be this happy? His feet carry him to Arima-san, and he wraps his arms around his waist. He hides his face in his warm back. ‘Thank you.’

There is a flurry of commotion around the front door, the sounds of bickering voices and discarded shoes. ‘Sasaki-kun, are you up yet?’ Tsukiyama-san glides into the room on his own personal, fragrant zephyr. The bouquet he’s holding is a monster- no, wait. Haise looks again. There’s more than one bouquet. It’s an army of bouquets. The poor florists must be out of stock. Tsukiyama-san starts arranging a veritable garden in the kitchen and living room, but not before he sets a single, white, many-petaled rose in Haise’s hand, brushing a kiss to his knuckles. ‘Happy birthday, _mon chou_.’

His blushes must be blushing. ‘Thank you, Tsukiyama-san.’ Now is not the time to tell him that he has no idea what half his terms of endearment mean.

‘Me too, me too!’ Hide appears, all unkempt gold and liquid sunshine. He presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and Haise gets thumped in the chest with a month’s worth of books. ‘Signed, half of them,’ Hide says blithely. Haise stands there dumbly, arms full of treasure.

‘Hide…’

‘No crying,’ Hide says sternly. Arima-san fluffs his hair with one hand in silent agreement.

Haise wipes his eyes. ‘Do I smell coffee?’

Touka-chan peeps out from behind Hide, lifts a full tray in confirmation. ‘Uncle is minding the shop,’ she explains, and puts the tray down for her hug and kiss. ‘Happy birthday, idiot.’ Affectionately. She touches noses with him, breaths mingling. ‘Gross,’ she says, and gives him a light shove. ‘Go brush your teeth, you savage.’

Laughing, Haise chases her for another kiss. Touka-chan yelps and runs, and Hide cheers him on. ‘How do you all stand him,’ she gripes. She has a cushion from the sofa held in front of her like a shield. Ah, Karren-san embroidered that one. Tsukiyama-san will be upset if it gets thrown around.

Haise retreats to the bathroom, the sounds of chaotic domesticity receding behind him. Tsukiyama-san has already decked every flat surface, mirror, and window with freesias and foilage. Haise goes through his morning routine in a cloud of white blossoms, sea foam. Akira-san has planned a dinner for tonight (he’s not sure who’s cooking it, though, maybe Kuki) and all the Quinx, Amon-san, and everyone from Anteiku will be there. He tried to protest that it was too big of a deal for a 24th, but Akira-san only smiled and shook her head. Space is nice, but there’s something about the mild pandemonium of a full house that he’s learned to appreciate.

Hide pokes his eternal bedhead into the bathroom. ‘Are you ready yet, slowpoke?’ he says around a mouthful of pancake.

‘Ready,’ says Haise, smiling, and follows him back out to be engulfed in another wave of coffee, pancakes, and morning light.

* * *

_Omake:_

Later, Kuki slides a flat paper packet to him across the coffee table. He attempts to flee afterwards, but Tooru and Ginshi catch an arm each before he can escape. 'It was last minute,' Kuki excuses himself, averting his eyes. Was he blushing?

Haise opens the present and unfolds a galaxy. His name beneath a star.

'Thank you.'


End file.
